Seldom Spent in Vain
by EStrunk
Summary: The war is over and everyone in Panem is trying to pick up the pieces. President Paylor has given Gale Hawthorne an impressive title and a boring job where he happens to run into a major missing piece. Madge Undersee doesn't want his pity or his protection, but she may not have any choice.
1. Chapter 1 - Smash

**1 - Smash**

They had ripped away her voice, but that didn't mean the Avox was always silent. The petite blonde leading the line with her large tray let out a small gasp as she entered the conference room. She fought her instinct to pull back into the hall as the others were right behind. But she did shift her tray slightly to block her face from his view.

She'd know that face anywhere, even if she'd never seen him in a suit and tie before. Maybe she'd changed enough so that he wouldn't recognize her. Maybe not.

She moved swiftly around the table, years of practice covering for her distracted mind. As she served each of the guests on the far side of the large table their requested beverages she maneuvered her tray to block her face from his view. For once she was glad for the size of the large round tray.

But she had to be careful. She couldn't do anything conspicuous, nothing to draw attention. That was not an Avox's place. And this was no ordinary dinner. She hadn't known that he would be here, but the president was here and, more importantly to the Avoxes, Thrax was here. The one who held them under his thumb. Thrax always saw mistakes, especially her mistakes. He always seemed to know where she was, what she was doing. And every second of her life was filled with loathing him.

A glass of white wine for this one, water only for the next, a large milk with ice next – she was almost done. She slipped another glass of wine to the right of the last place setting then headed for the door. But he was facing the door. She'd have to walk right past him. She'd keep her back to him. Surely, he'd never recognize her just from her back, her walk, her hair. But he'd always been annoyingly observant. Well, once it hadn't annoyed her. Now it did.

All evening, course after course, she moved around the room careful not to draw his attention. She was relieved to be assigned to the fish, seeing from the seating chart in the kitchen that he'd chosen the steak.

But dessert, they were all to be served the same blanc mange. She was near enough to touch him as she reached in front of him to center the plate. Her hand shook, then it was done. Just a few more to serve and she could, again, flee the room.

She held the now empty tray high, still blocking his view. She was almost out, almost in the clear.

Then she chanced a look back. Why? To make sure he hadn't seen her? To take one more look at him?

That was all it took. She kept her eyes on the side of his face for a moment too long. He didn't see her. But her head was turned as she went through the door and she didn't see the tall Avox coming into the room with a tray full of refill drinks.

SMASH!

Avoxes are supposed to be invisible. To serve but not be seen. But she was seen. And heard.

The cold drinks drenched her. As she lay shivering on the floor she realized that the only sound she could hear was her own panicked gasping. The clinking and chatter from the dinner meeting were completely hushed. She was still in the doorway and she tried not to make any noise as she crawled out into the hall to hide from the eyes of the shocked dinner guests. It helped a little, but not enough.

For a moment she pressed her forehead into the cold floor and wished, not for the first time, that she were dead. If only the liquid that had doused her had been an acid, strong enough to melt her on contact. Or maybe she could have fallen harder, hit her head, bashed in her own skull.

But no such luck. Strong arms were already pulling her to her feet. She'd go downstairs and wait. Wait for the punishment, wait for the rage. Her stomach clenched in fear and she forced herself to think only of stepping one foot in front of the other. She would not think of what was coming later.

It was not going to be good.

**AN – I started this fic a while ago, then got distracted by a Dramione I'm writing. (Harry Potter fic). Then I saw that it was Gadge Day! Some of my favorite writers in fanfic promoting one of my favorite ships and I just thought I had to contribute. If you like Gadge (and how could you resist?) check out . I'm posting two chapters of "Seldom Spent in Vain" because this one doesn't even give any names. I'll get back to the rest later. **


	2. Chapter 2 - Ghost

2 - Ghost

Gale Hawthorne had been dreading this trip to the Capitol for months. But, apparently, for all of the wrong reasons.

It was his first trip back to the old Capitol in the 5 years since Coin's assassination. He'd thought it would bring back all sorts of terrible memories. He'd expected that revisiting the sites of some of the worst days of his life would be horrific, probably make him physically ill.

But instead he'd seen nothing recognizable of the old Capitol, the one of his nightmares. A mob had burned down the presidential palace shortly after Snow's death. On its foundation was a sleek new high rise building which held no memories. The garish streets where they'd fought and fled and watched friends die had apparently been completely rebuilt. In fact, all of the bright colors of the old Capitol were either faded now or replaced with stone greys and steel.

Of course, this district wasn't even the Capitol anymore. President Paylor had wanted to make a clean break with the old government and had moved the Capitol of New Panem to District 2. Now this district was simply known as District 14.

Not that he'd even seen any of District 14. The president's delegation had landed by hovercraft on the roof of the Admin Building. They had made an official visit to the memorial in the square in front of that building, but its plaque remembering "Those Who Died During the Final Battle of the Rebellion" meant nothing to him. It certainly didn't slam him with pain like the few items in the box under his bed – the box his friend Almonzo called his "sulk box."

No, most of this trip had just been a series of endless conference rooms, one hardly distinguishable from another, and meeting after meeting after meeting. In fact, that was basically his impression of all of his fancy new position as Deputy Director of Special Investigations. When Paylor had told him about the promotion it had sounded adventurous. The reality was not so much.

It had been a month now since he and Almonzo had left army life for their new jobs in the Capitol building across the valley. A month of getting used to wearing a costume of suits and ties instead of comfortable fatigues. A month of sitting at a desk reading memo after report after agenda instead of training, shooting and moving. A month of being surrounded by efficient strangers who moved as easily through the shiny halls and conference rooms as Gale once had in the forest. If he hadn't had Almonzo to meet him for lunch he'd have gone screaming out of the building.

Almonzo was the new Deputy Director of Internal Security – DDIS to his DDSI. Gale would have thought that whoever created their titles was being funny, but so far no one in the building seemed to have a sense of humor. No one besides 'Monzo that is.

Gale fiddled with the yellow and grey striped tie gripping his neck, then glanced across the table and caught a quick wink from Monzo. Prodding Gale out of dark moods was turning out to be a 24/7 job for Monzo, who raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the thick mushroom-covered steak on his plate. Gale gave a miniscule nod, acknowledging that the food here was great. Then Monzo rolled his eyes in the direction of Superintendent Thrax, who was prattling on about something. Gale rolled his eyes back.

Thrax was an amazingly ugly human, his face thick and bloated, with a dark Neanderthal brow. In a second Monzo had puffed out his own cheeks and, frowning to bring his brows together, transformed his cheerful open face into a caricature of the superintendent's. It was all done so quickly that Gale choked on his steak. He ducked his head to keep from looking at Monzo as he pulled himself together. And to keep his new boss, President Paylor, from seeing his burning face as he struggled to breathe.

Almonzo Rood was a burly farm boy from District 11 who had been on the army squad Gale had landed in after the fall of the Capitol. The squad had found itself in the thick of the clean-up of the Nut, and through the arduous training, then dangerous work they had become a tight group of friends. They had surprised Gale when they stood by him as he was charged and then imprisoned for war crimes during the rebellion. But Monzo had not only stuck with him, like the others, but had stuck out his neck and saved Gale's life.

Once he got out of jail Gale found that, while the main reason he had to live was his family, especially his bossy little sister Posy, Monzo was the one who made being alive worth it, sometimes even fun. And these Capitol tools were so over-the-top that if one didn't laugh at them the only alternative was to be nauseous.

"Madame President, I think you'll be quite pleased with our total reformation of the Capitol's staff employment program." Thrax's voice had the harsh tone of someone who'd smoked millions of cigarettes. He tried to sweeten it for kissing up to the President, but was only marginally successful. "We have implemented new training procedures and now gear our program completely into having a happy and motivated work force. I'm very proud of the way our workers have shifted into the employment mode without losing any of their excellence and efficiency."

His smarmy words brought a bad taste to Gale's mouth even as he was taking a sip of water to try to pull himself back together from his choking fit. The Avoxes who'd brought their meal in certainly seemed motivated, but happy? Did this guy even believe himself?

"It'll be my honor, Madame, to personally conduct your tour of our facilities tomorrow morning."

"Thank you. I've cleared some time to be able to speak with your employees also," returned Paylor, her tone insistent and cold.

"You can speak to them, but they can't speak to you." Thrax began to chortle at his own joke. When not one smile was seen down the long table, he hurried to explain, "You know, Avoxes," which didn't help at all.

Gale sighed. Five years ago he would've wolfed down the food without bothering to listen to the chatter around him. Now he set his fork down with a sigh. This was why Katniss could return from her Victory Tour thinner than she'd been when she left. He could only hope her baker boy had managed to fatten her up by now.

He chanced a look up at Monzo. Now that he wasn't eating any more, choking wouldn't be a problem. Monzo gave him a slight head shake. Even he was tired of chasing away Gale's recurring grimness.

But as the dessert was cleared and everyone stood, most of them probably thankful that this obligatory dinner was over, Monzo held back as the others headed into the hall. Gale meandered to the other side of the table, knowing the glint in Monzo's eye meant their evening wasn't done. If he'd been here with almost any of his other army buddies they'd be plotting a night out on the town. But Monzo usually had more interesting ideas than that.

"That Thrax guy's a fraud," Monzo muttered.

"No kidding."

"Did you catch that deal when the little Avox girl fell?"

"What happened? I couldn't see from my side of the table." Gale hated how everyone at the table ignored the Avoxes. After the collision the broken glass and clumsy girl had all been swept away in seconds.

"I didn't see much either, but she didn't strike me as a bouncing happy new employee. The Avoxes still seem as scared and robotic as they ever did."

During the rebellion Monzo had finagled a job delivering produce to the Capitol and worked as a spy deep in the heart of the beast. He'd seen more of Avoxes than Gale, who'd barely noticed the ones who occasionally floated like ghosts through the corners of Capitol broadcasts.

"What're you thinking?" Whatever it was, Gale was in.

"I think we should go ahead and take an unguided tour of their facilities – tonight."

"Like Captain Brighton's night before inspections."

"I'll bet Thrax'll be even more off guard than we were the first time."

Thanks to the maps available, with a few clicks on their communicuffs they were soon headed down to B3. Unlike the old Presidential mansion, most of this administrative building was above ground, but at least the first few subterranean levels of the old complex were still being used. Of course, the Avoxes were on the lowest level still open, exactly where a model reformed program would be hidden.

They also found a service elevator way in the back. Coming down the main elevator would be like ringing the doorbell and walking in the front door.

An amazing amount of creaking and one loud bell announced the arrival of the elevator on B3. Both men were tense as they stepped off, expecting someone to come see what all of the noise had been about. But after a few moments they realized that this section of the floor was apparently deserted, at least at night, and they carefully set off down the hall.

They were no longer in the army. Now they were big shots in suits, but Gale wished for a moment that he'd gone back to his room to get the service pistol he'd left in a dresser drawer. He and Monzo were both trained in hand to hand combat and armed with communicuffs, which could contact the President or any of the others travelling with them in seconds. Still, he couldn't help feeling that they were on the enemy's turf.

As they came to an intersecting hall, Monzo held up his hand and they both froze to listen. A strange irregular thudding, with occasional curse words thrown in, met their ears. The sound echoed in the empty halls and they couldn't tell which of two hallways was the source. Monzo montioned left with his head and started down one hall. Gale nodded and headed down the hallway on the right. Down a few doors he realized that the noise was definitely getting louder. Monzo would soon realize that he'd drawn a blank and would double-back toward him, but, for now, Gale pressed on.

The sound was growing vaguely familiar, and even though he wasn't yet sure what it was, his stomach was growing tense. Whatever it was, wasn't good. And it was right around this corner.

He peered around the wall. He saw movement inside an open door and in two quick steps he peered inside some kind of a large room. By the time his mind had registered a large red-faced man brutally kicking someone, a girl, who lay curled into a ball on the floor, his body had already launched itself at the man.

He hit the man from a crouch, his shoulder knocking the air out of the bully as he slammed his body into the wall behind him. Before the man had recovered his breath Gale had landed a flurry of punches into his gut. The man may have weighed more than Gale, but his muscles had been softening for quite a while. Pummeling helpless Avoxes must not have been much of a workout.

The man attempted to claw at Gale's face. Gale batted his hand away then looked up into his face for the first time and recognized the puffy features of Thrax. Gale had just landed a right to the jaw to swell that ugly mug a bit more, when he became vaguely aware that Monzo was calling his name.

"Gale, Gale, whoa. I'll take this jerk. You check the girl." Monzo pressed his own forearm against Thrax's throat and Gale stepped back, shaking some blood off of his hand.

"What?" He shook his head to clear his frenzy, then turned to the crumpled body on the floor. He'd been an assistant medic for 6 months and, luckily the basic procedures were well drilled into his head.

He dropped to one knee and found a wrist, pulling one arm away from her vain attempt to protect her middle. He counted as he watched the seconds flip by on his communicuff, then shook his head and logged in her pulse. Way too fast. A whisper in the room behind him made him glance up, and instantly faces shifted back down to clutched knees all around the room.

They were in a large room with several dozen people, Avoxes he supposed, sitting on the floor. Their postures were identical, knees bent in front of them, hands clasped around their legs, heads bowed and motionless. Gale shuddered and returned his attention to the battered girl in front of him.

Monzo was calling into his own wrist: "Need backup on B3, stat! Medics – at least one critical, make that two, but one will need to be in custody before treatment. Need a unit of MPs, more if you have them. We've got an unknown number of Avoxes being held down here . . . ."

Gale reached up to check her airway. Clear. Breathing. As least that was good. Then he glanced at her face. That jerk must have punched her, maybe broken her cheekbone. Her eye was already swollen shut. He didn't want to move her, let the real medics figure out if she had head or neck injuries, but she did seem to be going into shock. He leaned around to check the other side of her face, see if her eye was open.

Then he sat back suddenly.

"You okay, Hawthorne? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Gale couldn't do anything more than nod. His answer made no sense to Monzo.

"Madge."


	3. Chapter 3 - Bad Bet

3 – Bad Bet

Monzo stood directly in from of Gale, who was rubbing both of his temples with one hand, trying to squeeze the ache out.

"Here." Monzo held a large Styrofoam cup of black coffee in front of Gale. "I would tell you to go to bed already, but since you won't, drink this."

"Thanks."

Monzo dropped into the chair next to him. There was no one else in long sterile hallway, no sound but a ventilation fan. They sat in silence while Gale waited for the burn of the hot drink to seep into his clouded mind. He sat on the front edge of the chair, knowing that if he slid back into the bowl-shaped seat sleep would become more tempting.

"So who's Madge?"

Gale took another sip. Part of his brain still didn't believe that she was alive. Another part was worried that she wouldn't be for much longer.

"How bad's she hurt?" Monzo went with an easier question.

"Looks like a broken wrist, broken cheekbone and jaw, all the ribs on her right side, lots of internal bleeding. They're in there now trying to figure out where all the damage is, trying to fix it." He let out a heavy breath. The coffee wasn't helping his roiling stomach. "That goddamn bastard. How could anyone kick a helpless girl like that? We should've killed him."

"Lucky for him you weren't carrying. But maybe he'll suffer more this way."

"Can't be enough."

"You never mentioned her before."

"I kinda did. Not by name. You know when I was whipped, back before the Quarter Quell? I told you someone brought me some morphling."

Monzo leaned back in his chair, resting the back of his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. "Yeah. I always wondered if the morphling was why you made it, when Petey died after fewer lashes."

"She's the one who brought the morphling." He took another sip of the coffee. "I didn't even know. I wasn't paying much attention to details right then."

"How'd you find out?"

Gale wondered if Monzo was asking him questions just to keep from thinking about Petey. "Later on. Katniss had left for the Games again. I heard screaming over at the Everdeens and went over to see what was going on."

"You make it sound like that happened all the time."

"It did. Especially then. It was the closest thing we had to a hospital. So Prim was on the porch, wringing a towel out. She told me they'd had to amputate some guy's finger."

"Wasn't she kinda young for that kind of thing?"

"She was used to it by then. They'd already had me bleeding all over their table."

"Yuck."

"I told Prim they should've knocked him out. She looked at me funny and said they didn't have anything strong enough. That's when I found out that what they'd given me was morphling." He'd been so angry – mad that they'd wasted valuable stuff like that on him, mad that they'd had to.

He could still see Prim guiltily biting her lip. She'd never been able to lie. "After a while I got Prim to 'fess up that it'd come from Madge."

Monzo looked at him with a scowl. "How'd Madge get stuff like that? I know we couldn't get it in Eleven."

"Her dad was the mayor. Her mom had these headaches so they got morphling from the Capitol." He gripped the coffee with both hands and let out a shuddering sigh. "I never even got a chance to tell her 'thank you.' Two days later they dropped the bombs. I thought she'd died. I never thought she might have made it."

He could still smell that night – the acrid gunpowder of the bombs, the thick and suffocating smoke, the fear in his own sweat. He stopped and drank the last of the coffee, hoping it would wash away the flames in his mind. Where had Madge been that night? Was she already gone? Already Avoxed? When had they taken her? "Maybe it would've been better if she hadn't."

"That's never better. If you're alive, there's always hope things can get better."

"Is there?"

Monzo sat back and shook his head, his mouth pressed into a grim smirk. "How long's she been in surgery?"

"Little over an hour."

"It'll be a while then. Come help me with something."

Gale looked up at him, eyebrows asking for more information.

"Want to go question some witnesses in the slammer?"

"Can I pound on Thrax some more?"

"I doubt they'll let us do that. But we got enough on him anyway. I want to talk to the underlings, get them squealing on each other while they're tired and scared."

"Sure. Let's go." They headed down the hall, Gale making a quick detour around the corner to ask the nurse at the desk to call his communicuff when Madge was out of surgery.

As they rode the elevator down to B1, where the jail was, Monzo looked over at Gale with raised eyebrows.

Gale huffed at him. "What?"

"So – do you have a thing for this Madge then?"

"Hmmf." When Gale realized that Monzo was still grinning at him, he turned away to stare at the elevator buttons. "No."

"You're hopeless. Some rich pretty blonde saves your worthless life and that's not good enough."

Gale looked over at Monzo. "Who said she's pretty?"

"Is she?"

"Yeah, I guess she was . . . is, I mean when her face isn't all swollen and black and blue and stuff. It's just back in the district – I kinda hated her."

"Spoiled kid, doesn't have to go hungry, work in the mines?"

"Something like that." Gale winced, remembering how bitter he'd been.

"So you won't mind introducing me to her then?" Monzo asked with a smirk.

"Geez, Monzo. Give her a break. She's probably not going to be in the mood for dating for a while."

"You said the last one, what was her name – Akeena - talked too much. Wouldn't have that problem with an Avox."

"Shut up."

The elevator doors opened. The hall was stark and white and immediately they heard the sound of men laughing echoing down the empty space.

Gale pressed one finger to his lips, more seriously silencing Monzo, but he was already frozen against the wall.

"I thought they might all be asleep," Monzo whispered. "Didn't expect a party."

"Should we go take a listen before we call for backup?"

"Why not?"

"I thought this was just a little detention area. How many guards do they have in there?" Gale was trying to calculate how many voices he could hear, how many people laughing.

Monzo shook his head. "That's more than just the guards. Didn't they let you in on their parties when you were in the slammer?"

Gale just shook his head. Not his favorite topic.

They crept silently down the hall, Monzo's years as a rebel sneaking around the fields of District 11 having taught him to move as steathily as Gale. They stopped a dozen feet before the door, Gale motioning to Monzo to make sure his communicuff was set to vibrate.

"I'll see your 10 and raise you twenty," came a voice from the doorway leading to the jail.

"I'm out." Gale's ears perked. They had only heard Thrax's voice during the dinner meeting, but its gravelly tones were familiar enough.

"Sure, now that you've taken all our money you're out," grumbled someone.

Gale motioned with his head and they both stepped back a bit from the door. "It sounds like quite a group in there," he whispered. "If the guards aren't guarding we need backup, and to get ourselves armed. You want to stay on watch here or get the pistols?"

"Don't care."

"I'll stay then. Here's the passkey to my room. It's in the bedside dresser drawer." Gale held a card out to Monzo.

"I'll call the MPs. I think Houdan's squad is on tonight."

"Tell them not to bring any Capitol - District 14 I mean, creeps. Can't trust them."

Monzo nodded and disappeared up the stairwell.

Gale listened to the card game chatter, remembering after a while to set his communicuff to record and memorialize whatever they might say. Most of the talk was unremarkable until . . . .

Thrax's gruff voice changed the subject. "I'll need a few minutes before we go. Need to hop upstairs and pick up something sweet." Gale wasn't sure if it was because he hated the guy, but the leering tone made his skin crawl.

"Why waste the time? There's plenty of other pretty things."

"That one knows too much."

"She's probably . . . ."

The stairwell door opened with more noise than necessary. Gale looked back and saw a half dozen military police creeping out, the familiar face of Kerry Houdan in the lead. Monzo followed out of the stairwell, conspicuous in his black suit and tie after all of the navy blue military police uniforms. Gale had stepped a dozen feet back from the jail doorway. He held a finger up to his lips. The MPs froze and were silent. There was a burst of loud laughter from the card game. Despite the noise of a dozen troopers filling the hall they hadn't heard a thing.

Something about their recklessness made Gale angry. They were so sure that they were safe here, so brazen about not doing their jobs. They hadn't posted a guard; they weren't trying to keep the noise from their little party down. On the other hand, it was going to make retaking the jail easier.

Houdan pulled Gale and Almonzo aside. They'd all been in the same army squad and they had worked together on raids before. After a few minutes of whispering and hand signals they had a basic plan for their entry. Gale and Monzo, since they were in civilian garb, would go first. The others would enter after the signal word – "George." After that they would just have to react.

Monzo stepped forward with Gale, handing him the pistol and holster he'd retrieved. Gale slipped off his jacket and shrugged into his shoulder rig holster. Once his suit coat was back on, it completely camouflaged the gun and holster. Then he straightened back his shoulders and they prepared to go in.

Gale and Monzo walked in together, walking quickly, but acting as casual as if they were just coming to join the card game. Half a dozen men sat around a table, some in uniforms, some in prison stripes. Down a hall the open cell gates could be seen.

"Evening, gentlemen," greeted Monzo. "What kind of game you got going here?" They circled around opposite sides of the table, eyes scanning to spot which ones were the jailers and where they kept their guns. Gale noticed a pistol sitting on a desk just next to the table. He went and stood between the desk and the game. He saw one man's eyes dart to the desk and knew that was the idiot jailer who'd just been caught unarmed.

"District 1 Wildcard," answered one of the players, who was either too stupid to understand what was going on or playing it very cool. "Too late to deal you in."

Another pistol was sitting on the card table. Monzo went and stood beside it. There were only three jailer uniforms at the table; that meant only three firearms. And they'd located two. Gale and Monzo locked eyes. Good enough.

Monzo answered. "That's okay. I'm not much of a card player, George." As he said the last word he brought his hand down on the pistol. The jailer next to him went for it at the same time, but Monzo had it pinned to the table.

Gale drew his and aimed directly at the center of Thrax's forehead across the table from him. Thrax's eyes and hands went up. Gale glared at him, hoping he'd do something stupid. In seconds the table was surrounded by the whole squad of MPs. The card game was over and all of their hands were reaching up.

The MPs had done this sort of thing before. They began frisking the players one at a time, and taking them one at a time back to the detention cells, former jailers now included. Gale just stayed frozen, never moving his aim from Thrax's head. Then he felt the buzz of his communicuff. He took a deep breath and lowered his hands just as an MP grabbed Thrax from behind.

"Gale Hawthorne - report to post-op." The message flashing across the screen made Gale's gut tighten. Was that standard? It seemed so terse. If she was okay wouldn't they have said so?

Monzo and Houdan were standing together. Gale went over.

"What do we do with these jerks now?" he asked.

"We'll stand guard 'till morning. Then, hopefully, we can get authorization to move them to a less . . . friendly facility ," answered Houdan. " We've got it covered for now, but you're welcome to stay."

Gale clutched the hair at the nape of his neck. He wanted make sure that this was done right this time. He had no reason not to trust the MPs. They weren't Capitol tools. Still, he didn't like letting that snake Thrax out of his sight. Except that he needed to know how Madge was, if she was okay, how her surgery'd gone. He let out a sigh.

He motioned to his communicuff. "I should head up and check on one of the Avoxes who just came out of surgery." Thrax's head shifted toward him just slightly. Was he listening? Gale stopped, not willing to give him any more information.

"Go ahead," said Houdan. "I'll stay and make sure things are secure here."

With a nod toward Monzo and a last glare at Thrax, Gale headed out. There was no way he could stand still long enough to wait for the elevator. He took to the stairs to go see what was going on with Madge.

**AN – I promise you'll get Madge's POV, as soon as she's up to it. Thanks so much to melika-elena for recommending this story at gadgeficrecs on tumblr. I was so excited I had to post another chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Encounter

4 – Escape

Gale stopped after he came out of the stairwell and went to get a drink of water from the fountain. He needed to catch his breath, to pull himself back together. He splashed some of the cool water on his face, and felt it cool his skin. He wiped it off with his sleeve. Idiot. This fancy suit had cost a whole pay check. He couldn't use it as a towel. Too late now, but the charcoal grey cloth seemed undamaged. He flicked a remaining drop off of his arm and blew out a deep breath, then turned into the waiting room and went up to the desk.

"Just a minute. Dr. Janus will be out to talk to you."

He paced a bit, but it wasn't long before a short balding man in a white doctor's coat beckoned him back behind the counter. He followed him down the hall, noticing with disgust a splattering of deep red on the bottom edge of the coat.

"Maggie's doing fine. Everything went well. She was a mess though. Needed two bolts in her wrist this time. Wired her jaw for now, what with both the cheekbone and the jaw shattered. Girl's got bones like a sparrow."

His voice echoed slightly as they entered the large post-op recovery room. Tightly made beds lined both sides of the room. They walked past a large man, snoring and snorting with his mouth hanging open. Must still be drugged. A bed at the far end of the room at first looked unoccupied, only lumpy blankets. There was blonde hair though at the head of the bed. Madge. Had she always been so small?

The doctor pulled a thick file from the foot of the bed, then walked around her bed, absently taking her unbandaged wrist to check her pulse. He made a notation, then looked up at Gale.

"Her vitals are strong even though she looks . . . . She'll improve." Gale frowned. Who did this man think he was? Some sort of customer?

"A broken wrist, a broken jaw, a broken cheekbone," Gale listed through the injuries he remembered. "How about internally? How was her spleen?" He didn't know much about internal organs, but he knew more about spleens than he wanted to. Katniss had lost her spleen when she took a bullet, even protected by her body armor, and he'd come close to losing his when . . . .

"Oh, her spleen's long gone. Took that out myself a couple of years ago." The doctor's flippant tone jarred Gale. The doctor flipped through the file, making another note. The back of Gale's neck prickled cold. Those papers were all describing medical procedures already done to her. How often had she been here? The doctor obviously knew her. How many times had he patched her up and sent her right back for more?

Gale clutched the bedrail to keep his fist away from this grinning jerk. "So what else did you do this time?" The doctor glanced up at him, apparently puzzled by Gale's cold tone.

"One kidney was ruptured completely - had to go. Patched up the liver, too. It wasn't too bad. Lucky for her since she doesn't have a spare."

Gale felt bile in his throat. How many of her organs had been removed? How many were damaged? What kind of abuse had she been through?

Dr. Janus slipped her file back into the slot. "She's not going to be really conscious for several hours still. You'd best come back in the morning."

Without thinking Gale reached out to get the file. He wanted to see how many surgeries Madge'd had, how many other injuries were covered in that massive tome. The doctor's hand went back to the file, holding it in place. "What relation did you say you were?"

"Not a relation. I'm a friend." He wondered if Madge would agree with that; she didn't even know he was here.

"Sorry. Can't let you see that. Patient confidentiality, you know. In fact, you're not really supposed to be back here at all."

Gale considered his options. He was going to see that file. In fact, he'd get an order tomorrow from Paylor to let him review all of the Avoxes' medical files. He was Special Investigations now and was going to be launching a serious investigation into the Avoxes, their treatment downstairs, and their treatment up here. He had a feeling there was going to be a lot to see. Better not to make a fuss now. He didn't want to tip this guy off or things might be missing by morning.

"Okay," he said backing down. "Do you know what room she'll be in?"

The doctor gave him a tight smile, without taking his hand off of the file. "The nurse'll have that for you. Just out here." He led Gale out of the room, then left with a nod as the nurse looked up Madge's room. Gale noticed that she appeared as "Maggie" on the list. No last name given at all. Did they even know her real name? He glanced down the list and saw a bunch of single names. Only a couple patients listed were there under two names. How strange. Were they all Avoxes? Then he noticed that each of the single names, Madge's included, had a dash and an "A" listed after it. That had to stand for "Avox." Why were so many in the medical wing? Another question that needed answering.

The nurse at the desk told him that Madge would be in room number 497. "Visiting hours start at 8:00 a.m.," she said, turning back to her work.

He nodded and mumbled a "Thanks."

Gale wasn't going to wait until morning to see Madge. He knew that much. He was going to be there as soon as she got to her room. He didn't trust these medical creeps half a layer of coal dust.

He stopped off to get another cup of coffee. There were some stale cookies left on a plate and he grabbed one. At least it might keep his stomach from revolting at more late night caffeine.

A young man in scrubs joined him on the elevator. Even though the administrative building had many different activities in it, only the medical wing was busy in the dark hours of the night. Gale realized that he'd never pushed the button for the 4th floor, then decided to stay on for a detour up to the 6th floor while he pulled himself together. It would be a while before they sent Madge up anyway. His arms and hands were still buzzing with the urge to punch someone or, better yet, strangle the shallow grin off of Janus's face.

Once the other guy got off he headed back to the fourth floor. By that time he was calming down. He decided that he needed to try to chat with the floor nurse a bit. Tonight he'd try charm. Tomorrow was going to get hostile.

"Hi, just wanted to check in. I'm here to keep an eye on the Avoxes," keeping it general for now. He couldn't pull off being Madge's brother or anything. He'd go for the official angle instead.

The nurse didn't look up from her paperwork. "Thrax send you?"

"No, I'm with Paylor." The president hadn't sent him, but he knew she'd give him her okay in the morning. The nurse looked up at him, a puzzled furrow between her eyes.

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he showed her his official i.d. He glanced at her nametag - Cluny. She returned his smile. "Paylor taking an interest in the Avoxes?" She seemed to like that idea. Maybe not everyone here was one of Thrax's fans.

"You could say that. How many you have on the floor tonight?"

"A regular flood. Seventeen, eighteen with Maggie." Again, she seemed to know her. "She's the last one to check in."

"Any of the others coming from surgery?"

"No, had a couple of breaks that were casted. The rest were all dehydration or malnutrition. But they said to keep them all tonight for observation. Is that you?"

"I'm just the night guard."

"Okay. Coffee's in there," she gestured to a door across the hall, but he held up his cup. He decided to take a look around. He walked down the hall. Their names were written in marker on white boards next to each door. There were two in each room. He started to log the names into his communicuff. It'd help when he went through their files tomorrow: "Delta, Epoxy, Lycus, Arach, River, Brocade, Silvanus, Mewan," names from all sorts of districts, and the Capitol, each with a story to tell. Gale knew too well the type of hideous story behind an Avox.

Most of the rooms were dark. Everyone seemed to be asleep. Then he paused. One of the Avoxes was awake and staring into the hall from her bed. But she didn't seem to see him. Her eyes were empty, hopeless. Was she just scared, expecting to be sent back to Thrax? Or were all of the Avoxes so broken that nothing was left but a shell? He checked the white board. That was either River or Brocade.

He looked back and the girl's eyes had closed, either asleep or pretending to be. He hadn't even seen Madge conscious yet. What if she didn't recognize him? What if she didn't remember him? What if her eyes were empty now too? He shuddered.

Just then he heard a noise down the hall. Two blue clad orderlies were wheeling her into her room on a gurney. He noted down the last couple of Avox names then headed down to Room 497.

He waited outside the room, as the attendants, adjusted her i.v., straightened her sheets, made notes in her chart. He could tell them that he'd been sent to check on the Avoxes, hopefully they wouldn't notice if he didn't say who had sent him. If they did ask, he could flash his i.d. Then they left, giving him only a glance, and his explanations died in his mouth.

He frowned at the lack of security then went in. Madge seemed to be sleeping peacefully. The left side of her face was covered by heavy bandages, although he could see that her eye was swollen shut, dark purple and painful looking. Her right hand was also thickly bandaged up to her elbow. Gale fought down his anger that anyone could hurt her like that. He walked around the side of her bed and checked the i.v. hanging next to her – morphling. At least she'd sleep well tonight. He bit his lip thinking of how it was her turn to need the morphling now, although it probably wasn't the first time since he'd last seen her.

She had the room to herself. Since he was acting as the night guard he decided to do a security check on the room. He couldn't get over the feeling that it wasn't really safe here. He glanced inside the cabinets, all empty. The one small, high window was locked from the inside. The room didn't have much furniture, just a bedside table and a single chair. It had its own bathroom, which he checked - for what? To make sure no one was lurking there?

Gale laughed slightly at himself, leaning back against the wall. Why was he here? What was he looking for? He just felt responsible for Madge now, somehow.

He looked back over at her and was startled by how different she looked from this side. This side of her face was unmarked, smooth, glowing silver with what he realized was moonlight shining through the window. She looked peaceful, beautiful, as though she hadn't a care in the world. How strange that none of her pain, none of her injuries were showing from here. But she was injured. Gale felt a strange pull to take care of her, to make sure she was never hurt like that again.

Was it because she was from 12? He still, after all these years, felt a connection to anyone else from 12 no matter how little he'd known them before. Their home had been completely destroyed and not many people understood the hollow feeling that left. Even though his own family had returned to help rebuild a new 12, the old one was gone forever, details lost forever as memories faded.

But Madge was more than just someone from 12. He had known her, not just known her, but been in her debt. That added to his feeling that he needed to take care of her. Plus, her family was gone. There was no one else to look after her, to protect her from the fiend who'd been beating her. The thought of Posy alone, beaten and bandaged made him clench his teeth.

When had they taken Madge? He relaxed his jaw and sighed. He'd heard piercing shrieks coming from the mayor's house that night. He'd been running into town, trying to convince more people to run for the fence, to go into the woods. The people of the Seam had listened to him, but in town . . . they didn't know him. Still he'd gone to get Madge. He owed her his life and he knew she would come if he showed her the way. He could still hear the whistle of the falling bomb that had taken her house. When it had first landed nothing had happened. He'd thought it was a dud and had resumed his run toward the house, thinking there was time to . . . . Before he'd taken three strides though, it had exploded. He'd covered his head as he was blown off his feet. He got up, deafened at first. He put his arm over his mouth as he went into the smoke, trying to push aside the debris. With a start he realized that his hearing was back. He could hear again, but there was no sound coming from the wreckage of Madge's house. Then there'd been a break in the smoke and he saw that he was too late. The house was gone. The screaming had stopped because whoever it had been was gone. He'd heard another bomb coming and turned, running until his legs burned, into the forest.

Madge must have been already gone. When had they taken her? It must have been her mother shrieking in the house. What had happened to her father? Did they do this to her just to punish him? Or was the punishment her own?

His communicuff vibrated, shaking him out of his thoughts. With one last look at Madge he headed into the hall to check the message and set up a post to stand guard tonight.

"_Where are you? I've still got your room key."_ It was Monzo.

He typed in his answer – _"Staying up here tonight. To keep an eye on things. Everything okay below?"_

"_Keeping an eye on the pretty young things? Houdan's got things under control on 3. See you in the morning."_

Gale rolled his eyes. Monzo had a one track mind. He walked back down the hall, making sure he'd gotten all of the Avoxes' names. The floor was eerily quiet, no sound but the scratching of the night nurse's pen.

He found himself battling a yawn as he walked back to 497. He batted himself on the face.

"There's a chair over there you can borrow. It'll work for a cat nap." Cluny was smiling at his efforts to stay alert.

He started to decline, but changed his mind. "Thanks."

The chair was hard plastic, too short. His knees jutted up in front of him as he tried to get comfortable. He glanced down the hall. The elevator bell was loud. No one would sneak up on him from that that direction. He looked the other way, toward the stairwell. Too bad he couldn't put an alarm on that door. He stood up and walked over to the door, opened it and looked up and down the echoing cement stair tower. The door closed with a clang as he went back on to the hospital floor. His eye caught on the door knob. Surely, it couldn't be that easy.

He opened the door again, then pushed the button in the handle and tried the other side. It locked, locked from the floor side. That was all he had to do. Sure it wouldn't be hard to break the flimsy lock, but it would be nearly impossible to do so quietly, particularly without any kind of special equipment. Whoever might be trying to get onto this floor tonight was unlikely to have a silent blow torch in their pocket. He locked the door and went back to his chair.

Maybe he was just more tired now, but the chair seemed more comfortable. He turned at an angle, let his head fall against the wall and closed his eyes. The jacket was restricting, but it concealed the holster he wore underneath. He'd keep it on, but there was nothing to be gained by staying awake. He'd keep vigil just outside her door, but catching some sleep would help him not to miss anything tomorrow.

He was out in just a few minutes. The army had at least taught him how to sleep pretty much anywhere.

Hours later, the night still dark, he woke with a start. He stood without thinking, one hand already on his pistol. His heart thumped and his eyes darted down each side of the door, then lingered toward the stairwell door. He'd heard . . . something.

3:28 a.m. His communicuff glowed eerily.

He peeked into Madge's room and took a breath as her silent sleeping form reassured him. He turned and moved quickly down the hall to check. His soldier years had only reinforced his belief that he should never ignore his gut. Something had woken him.

Cluny was gone. An older brunette nurse gave him a questioning look as he walked by. He nodded in her direction.

He opened the stairwell door and paused, listening. He heard something . . . a step? Then the stairwell was silent. Had it been up or down? He couldn't tell. He slipped his pistol out of its holster. Was there a lingering warmth in the air? Someone had been here recently, was probably just feet away, frozen, trying not to make a sound. He stood perfectly still, but heard only the whirr of a distant fan. The stairs, concrete walls and heavy doors would echo, magnify any sound, but there was nothing.

He could go after them, but he'd have to choose, up or down. Probably down. Someone coming from the street would be coming up the stairs. Unless they were coming from upstairs. What was upstairs? Offices? Were there any living quarters? If he chose wrong . . . someone could slip onto the floor, lock the door. He'd be stuck in the stairwell, and they could . . . . He wasn't sure what they'd do, but Madge was asleep, helpless, injured. If he locked the door, then he'd be locked in the stairwell too. What if there was an accomplice? Someone else on the floor?

It wasn't worth the risk. He let the door clang shut behind him, a warning to whoever it was that he was here. After making sure that the door was still locked he went back to Madge's door.

Had the closing of the door woken Madge? He watched her for a moment. Her even breathing was undisturbed. The morphling probably had something to do with that.

After a check down the other side of the hallway, he settled back into his chair. Nothing more that he could do now. He fell asleep again, this time with his hand under his jacket near his pistol.

The sun was already shining when a vibration from his communicuff woke him. He shook the sleep from his mind, even as he responded to check the message.

"_Come quick. Breakout on 3. Tell you more when you get here. Monzo."_

Maggie once again pushed away the consciousness that was seeping into her mind. Nothing good could come of it.

But there was a persistent pressure in her left hand. She shifted away from it and a grip tightened on her wrist. Slowly the feelings in her hand molded themselves into something she knew:

MAGGIE?

She almost smiled. Even without opening her eyes, which just seemed like too much trouble right now, she knew the hands signing gently into her hand. She rarely signed with her left hand, but since her right was out of commission she clumsily responded:

ARACH?

YES.

WANNA SLEEP, she answered.

He persisted: I HAVE GOOD NEWS.

She opened her eyes, well, one eye anyway. Her left eye was swollen almost shut, but her right was working fine. She made the sign for questioning: ?

THEY'RE GONE.

She knew who he meant. She turned away again, although she didn't pull her hand away: NO, THEY AREN'T.

WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER?

Not much she reflected. She remembered screwing up, smashing into Lycus, lying on the floor. She remembered waiting downstairs, curled into a tight ball, no one speaking to her, no one looking at her; they were probably trying not to think about her. They all knew what would happen.

And she remembered the beating, at least the first part. She had finally blacked out under his fists, his boots, the blows that started as he lifted her to her feet then smashed his fist into her face, throwing her onto the floor, her wrist contorting beneath her, her world becoming blurred by the echoing pain in her face and hand. After that each blow faded into the others. She never blacked out fast enough.

She must have winced remembering. Arach signed into her hand: SORRY. DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN THEY CAME? WHEN THEY STOPPED HIM? THEY BEAT HIM UP.

WHO?

DON'T KNOW. FROM PAYLOR. I THINK ONE OF THEM GUARDED OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM LAST NIGHT. THRAX IS IN JAIL.

She turned her face away and closed her good eye, trying to gather her thoughts. None of this made any sense. Arach just didn't understand. It just must have been someone Arach didn't recognize as one of Thrax's stooges. She always had a guard. He was always watching her.

Arach moved closer. He brushed a strand of hair off of the left side of her face. Suddenly, she frowned, puzzled.

WHY ARE YOU HERE? Arach had never been allowed to visit her in the hospital before.

I'M A PATIENT TOO. MALNUTRITION.

Maggie sighed. She could've told him that. The male Avoxes were kept in a constant state of hunger, fear of their physical strength leading their keepers to feed them half of what the females got. She looked at her friend, his light brown hair just long enough that she could see how brittle it was. His collarbones jutted out, his cheeks were sunken, but today his eyes were alive. Maggie thought of something wonderful.

ARE THEY FEEDING YOU?

Arach grinned widely and nodded.

IT'S GREAT! I GOTTA GO EAT AGAIN SOON.

YOU GO. HAVE SOME FOR ME. I'LL BE ON SOUP FOR A WHILE. She gestured to her jaw, teeth wired together under the bandages. She could handle just soup. Arach needed to get some food in him.

Once Arach was gone, Maggie frowned at the wall. She knew Thrax. He'd get out of jail. He'd be here soon, pestering the doctors to send her back down. He'd probably make Arach throw up whatever extra food he'd finally gotten. But for now, she had a few moments of peace.

She began mentally cataloging her latest injuries. The left side of her face ached. It must be busted up pretty bad for her teeth to be wired together. Her right hand was thickly bandaged up to her elbow. It must have been seriously broken. That was going to be a problem. Not only was Thrax going to be furious if having only one hand slowed her down, but her signing was going to be cut way down. A lot of times two Avoxes, working side by side could work with one hand while having a silent conversation with their other hands. Having only one hand meant only work, no chatting. She'd feel almost like Mewan and she'd never understood how he kept from going insane.

Mewan was the only male Avox over the age of 30 or so. The females were less dangerous and more in demand so they got better care. The males got only minimal food and usually no medical treatment at all if they got sick. And if their abuse caused them to rebel in any way they simply disappeared. Not that the females didn't disappear too if they displeased their masters, but everyone knew that it happened for much less reason for the males.

Mewan had suffered more than his share of punishment. In fact, years before Maggie arrived both of his hands had been amputated for some infraction. Most Avoxes gave up and died after such punishment. They couldn't stand the humiliation and isolation of losing even the ability to sign, plus the added ire of their masters since there were so few jobs they could still do. But Mewan somehow kept slogging along, doing the best that he could, usually with a mop or broom clutched in his stumps. He was always meek and accepted his punishments, whether fair or not, without a wimper. Maggie felt guilt in her stomach that she was barely going to be able to stand being without one hand for a few weeks when he'd gone without two for years.

She was still staring at the obnoxious cast when there was a soft knock on her door. She looked up with a start. Who would bother to announce their presence to an Avox with a knock?

She looked up and sucked in a cold breath. There in the door was someone . . . someone in a suit, a nearly military short haircut, but, with dark hair, olive skin, he looked so much like . . . .

Good God. Her eyes met his. It was him. She looked away as quickly as she could. Gale Hawthorne was standing in her doorway.

Maggie rolled away from the door, then gasped at the pain that caused her bandaged ribs. No matter. She stayed facing away from him. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. Why would he be here?

"Madge?" He'd come around to the side she was facing. She flinched to hear her name, her old name, again. She shook her head. She was Maggie now. "How are you?"

She made no attempt to answer. Of course, she couldn't. He wouldn't know sign. But she didn't want to either. He couldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. She didn't want him here.

"Are you in pain?" he asked. He was still here. "I've seen your file. I can't believe what you've been through."

This time she clenched her eyes shut in anger. How dare he? Snooping through the record of her miserable life. What gave him the right? She sat up as much as she could and, without thinking, made furious signs at him – demanding that he get her some paper and a pen. Here in the Capitol everyone knew at least those signs.

Surprisingly, he turned, said "Just a minute," and disappeared into the hall. Where could he be going? But he returned quickly, holding out to her a pad and a pencil. He'd known what to do. Maybe he'd just guessed. Good guess. Or maybe he'd been around Avoxes before. It didn't matter.

Maggie snatched the items from his hand. Her left hand was bad at this too, but she'd get her point across.

She thrust the paper with her scrawled message into his face:

**GO AWAY!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Moving

**Trigger warning – references to serious violence.**

5 – Moving

"You've got a real way with women, Hawthorne," Monzo said, through a mouth stuffed full of sandwich. Gale took a break from telling him about Madge to eat some of his own lunch. The sandwiches were dry, almost stale, but they'd been the easiest thing to grab from the lunchroom. He and Monzo had brought their lunch out to a desolate courtyard where they could talk freely, without worrying about being overheard.

After washing his food down with a small carton of milk Gale paused and said, "Every time I think this day's already gone down the coal chute it somehow gets worse."

Monzo smirked sympathetically. "For all of us. You should see Houdan. He keeps banging his head on whatever wall's nearby. It's killing him that those jerks got out on his watch."

"No one expected them to have some kind of knock out gas. There was nothing he could've done, except wear a gas mask that no one thought they'd need."

"Paylor even said that. But he's not thinking that clearly. He thinks he should've figured out what was going to go down when Thrax asked for a wet washcloth."

"I wouldn't of caught that. Who would?"

"How's the plan going to move the rest of the Avoxes back to 2?"

"Paylor agreed. The hovercraft is set to go this afternoon. We have a barracks set up for most of them on the Base, with a nutritionist to watch over the malnutrition cases. They want Madge to stay in the hospital a little longer. She's the only roadblock now. Several of the Avoxes won't agree to go until they know she's going and she won't even discuss it. I should never have let her know it was my idea. Maybe you could talk her into it."

"Nope. She'll see right through that. She'll know you sent me. What about the other Avoxes? Are there any who might be able to persuade her?"

Gale took a deep drink of milk and fought against the answer he knew was there. "Yeah. You're right. In fact, I better go talk to him now. We've got to get this thing moving."

Arach was still in his room, in his weird blue-striped hospital gown, which at least was less creepy than the white, disappear-into-the-walls Avox uniform. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, on top of the sheets, tearing into some roasted chicken as though he might never get another meal.

"Can I come in?" Gale asked.

Arach nodded and waved his hand at the chair next to the bed. As Arach finished the last of his meal Gale picked up the pad of paper and pen that had been sitting on the chair. He hesitated. Should he give Arach the pad or try to sign with him? It might build trust if Arach knew Gale could sign. On the other hand, it had been a while since he'd used sign. Clumsy signing could end up being insulting and would definitely be inefficient. There just wasn't time. He handed Arach the pad of paper and pen.

"So – have you heard about Thrax? And the others?"

Arach reached out for the pad. At least being an Avox meant you could "talk" with your mouth full.

_A bit. Thrax broke out of jail and disappeared. With some Avoxes?_

Gale nodded. "Thrax and the two others being held got away and all 22 of the Avoxes still staying in the big room have vanished too. Right now we're assuming Thrax took them."

_How'd they do it?_

"That's the million dollar question. We're starting to put it together; they used some sort of sleeping gas to knock out the guards. But we don't know if they used the same gas on the Avoxes, where they took them, even why they took them."

_Avoxes disappear all the time. No one ever finds out where or why._

Gale sighed. He couldn't deal with that now. "This is the thing. You aren't safe here. At least, we can't be sure when there's so much we don't understand." Should he tell Arach that he had a feeling this floor had been targeted too? That someone had been here last night? No. He hadn't told anyone and it was no more than a feeling.

"You may have already heard that we'd like to move all of you, all 18 left up here, to District 2. Just temporarily. Get you healed up and healthy and then figure out where each of you wants to go. There are just too many people who can't be trusted here in the Capitol – I mean, District 14."

Arach picked up the pen again, but held it above the paper for a moment before he wrote.

_Are you telling me or asking me?_

"Asking. I've gotten the feeling that the others come to you. Well, you and Maggie. We want you on board with this."

_And Maggie?_

"I've looked through the medical files. She seems to have had it worse than most of the other Avoxes. Is that right?"

Arach just nodded, his jaw set grimly.

"We've got to get her out of here. But . . . she won't talk to me." He flinched. He couldn't get used to the fact that she couldn't talk to anyone - ever. "You know what I mean."

_You want me to convince her to go to District 2?_

Gale nodded.

_I'll try._Arach stopped and stared intently at Gale's face. Then he wrote again: _Are you from 12?_

Gale nodded. Somehow Arach's silence made him want to keep his words to a minimum, not to flaunt his ability to speak.

_You're the Mockingjay's cousin._

Not that again. Gale sighed and shook his head, then realized he'd have to give more explanation than that. "I'm not her cousin. They made that up during the Games. I was just her . . . friend."

Arach studied his face. Gale felt like he was putting together the whole sordid tale.

_And you knew Maggie there?_

Another nod. "I knew her as Madge."

_Were you . . . friends?_

Gale felt a bitter smirk come to his face as Arach added the significant pause to his note. Cute. "Not exactly friends, more like a friend of a friend. She and Katniss were friends. I just knew her through Katniss." The whole story about the morphling was too complicated to explain to this stranger. Not that he really had an explanation.

Arach eyes widened in surprise. _She was friends with the Mockingjay?_

Gale just nodded again. Apparently Madge hadn't told her Avox friends much about her life in 12.

_When do you want to take us to Two?_

Relieved at the change in subject, Gale answered: "The hovercraft can leave as soon as 4:00. You could all be there by dinner time."

_I'll talk to her._

Maggie pressed her fingers into her forehead. Arach was making so much sense. What was wrong with her?

Her initial reaction to the idea to move them all to District 2 had been ridiculous, irrational. All she could think was that Thrax would come back and take it out on the youngest ones, the helpless ones, that they'd done something so rebellious. And Arach would be sure to disappear.

Why couldn't she believe that he was gone? Why couldn't she believe that they could be safe in Two?

She still had nightmares about watching them beat little Iva to death. They made sure that all of the Avoxes knew it was Maggie's fault. She'd been sneaking some of the males her food. She knew some of the others were doing it too, but she hadn't known Iva was. They'd cut rations for all of them, but they'd chosen Iva to be the example and this time she didn't just disappear. They'd all worked together, punching her, kicking her, stomping on her, then left her in the middle of the floor, bleeding, sobbing, coughing, trying to breathe through what must have been a punctured lung. And no one could help her, comfort her, nothing. Every once in a while one of them would walk by and give her one more kick. Maggie was almost sick just thinking of her pale and contorted face. Even after she died, they left her there, cold and still, for hours.

Every time Maggie thought she could take the punishment Thrax'd dish out he'd find something worse, some way to get to her, something she just couldn't take.

Arach interrupted her morbid thoughts, signing into her hand: "_What's-going-on, Maggie? You-look-pale."_

"_I'm-being-silly. I-can't-believe-he-could-really-be-gone."_

_ "Do-you-trust-this-Hawthorne-guy?"_

_ "What_?" Maggie was confused. What had Gale been up to?

"_Do-you-think-he-might-be-in-cahoots-with-Thrax?"_

Maggie scoffed. What a ridiculous idea. "_No-way. No-one-hates-Capitol-jerks-more-than-Gale."_

_ "He-thinks-we'll-be-safer-in-Two."_ Maggie tried to fight her panic. They wouldn't get caught. She needed to think about this calmly, rationally. Of course, they were in more danger here. In Two, especially those who'd be staying on the army base, should be surrounded by people who'd have no loyalty to Thrax.

"_You-knew-him . . . Before_." Arach had a strange look in his eyes. It took Maggie a moment to realize that he was talking about Gale. "_And-the-Mockingjay? You-knew-her?"_

"_That-was-a-long-time-ago_," she signed. He should understand. None of them ever talked about their lives before, before becoming Avoxes. She'd done her best not to think about her old life at all. It was gone. Thinking about it only hurt.

"_Maybe-she-could-have-helped-us."_ Maggie stared at him, open-mouthed. How could he think that? The idea was so ridiculous Maggie couldn't think of what to say. Then she realized what he was saying, what he was accusing her of.

"_You-think-I-should-have-just-picked-up-the-phone-and-called-my-buddy-to-come-save-us-all!_"

Arach looked away, embarrassed by her outburst. "_No. You're-right. Nevermind_."

Maggie's cheeks burned. She shouldn't have reacted like that. _"I'm-sorry, Arach. But-it-never-would-have-worked."_

He nodded. _"Maybe-she-can-help-us-now."_ Maggie was amazed that he seemed to think Katniss was some kind of super hero.

_"Arach, we-don't-need-her. We-can-help-each-other. How's-River? Does-she-want-to-go?"_

_"She-wants-to-be-where-ever-you-are."_ Maggie'd expected that. It was sweet, but it scared her, too. Then she thought of something and frowned.

_"Where's Diode?"_

Arach sighed and the look on his face answered her question before he could sign it_. "She-was-downstairs."_

Maggie clenched her eyes, then flinched at the pain still in her left eye. Diode was even smaller than River. She was one of the newest Avoxes – a pale thin girl from District 3. She'd tried to give up when they'd brought her in. Thrax always let Maggie tend to the new ones. Sometimes she wondered if she should save them. What hope could she offer them? But now . . . .

Except there was still no hope for Diode. She'd disappeared with the others.

Maggie couldn't let that happen to River, Brocade, Lycus, all the others. Of course, they'd be safer in Two.

President Paylor stood up from the desk and began to pace back and forth behind it. "Gentlemen," she said, being much more formal than she usually was in private, "we are about to unleash a firestorm." Gale knew she tended to revert to official protocol when she was tense. But who wasn't tense lately?

Gale tapped his pencil against the action list he'd been making. Like Monzo, he was sitting on the edge of a fancy chair facing her desk. "Madame President," if she was going to be formal he'd better follow suit, "are you sure this office is secure?"

They were, after all, still in District 14. The office was Paylor's - while she was in town. "Yes. I had a security sweep done, first thing. Plus, at the moment, we are controlling the surveillance room anyway."

Gale had a tendency to assume he was always being listened to, unless he knew for a fact there were no microphones or cameras around. However, Paylor was almost as careful as he was. He'd have to trust her.

"I want to make an arrest. Soon," he said.

Paylor's eyebrows went up. "Since the miscreants got away, I'm a bit surprised that you already have a suspect."

"Suspect for what though? That's the problem," he sat back. This was the time to be totally honest with her. If anything went wrong, they'd all be in trouble. "I know that at least one of the doctors upstairs knew all about the abuse the Avoxes were taking. He'd patch them up, and send them back down. But I'm not sure exactly what laws he broke, if any. He's going to split though. We've taken the Avoxes' medical files and as soon as he figures that out, he'll be gone."

"We have to be careful here. People are going to want to see some arrests, but it'll take more to convince that a doctor did something wrong." Paylor always had to think about the public view of their actions.

"Even a Capitol doctor?" Monzo asked. "Most people think of them as the ones who spent most of their time dying skin funny colors and surgically adding whiskers to weirdoes." Gale's mouth drew into a tight smirk. That was certainly how they'd viewed them in 12.

"Yes, but all we have on this guy is that he helped the Avoxes, fixed them up, eased their pain. Was it criminal that he didn't investigate how they'd been hurt?"

"What about the Avoxing? Did he do the . . . surgery that made them Avoxes?" Monzo's quick mind was already finding the doctor's weak spots.

"He did Madge's. That should count as a war crime." He looked at Paylor hopefully, but she shook her head grimly.

"It'd take too long to reconvene war crime hearings though. And," she hesitated, "no offense, but if we're going to be charging people with more war crimes, Gale, you probably don't want to be involved."

He looked down at his hands. He knew she was right; the least that'd happen would be the press reviewing his war record, his prison time. But he heard the pity in her voice, using his first name all of a sudden. He clenched his hands together, fighting the memories, the guilt that not even a year and a half in prison could completely wash away.

Paylor brought him back to the practical. "If you want a quick arrest we need something more recent."

Monzo stepped in. "So has he done any recently? That's what we need to know." Paylor looked at Gale.

He blew out a heavy breath. There were boxes and boxes of files on the other Avoxes. "I'll see what I can find." He already had so much to do, and he wanted to get the Avoxes to District 2 as soon as possible. Still, if he waited on this, the jerk would get away.

Paylor nodded sympathetically. "Do what you can. I can send you some MPs to help. Meanwhile, Mr. Rood?" Almonzo looked up attentively. It'd been a long time since she'd called him "Mister."

"Madame President?" he answered.

"I understand there's a theory about how our jail breakers got out of District 14, with the missing Avoxes."

"So far it's not much more than a theory. We've got some sketchy film, from a bad angle. And we know it was the only hovercraft to leave this morning. If they went by air, they were on it. I'm going to go out to District 4, examine the craft and the crates left behind, talk to the pilot and crew and see what I can find out. I'm still open to other ideas though. If anyone has any other theories we should look into those too."

"What about why the Avoxes were taken? Have you looked into that yet?"

Gale glanced at Monzo. "We've talked about it a bit. It's clear that these aren't the first Avoxes to disappear, just the most to go at once. They may be using them as slave labor somewhere, a mine, a factory, somewhere that doesn't want to deal with paying for the work."

"Or it could be some kind of dangerous or illegal work too risky for civilian employees." Monzo was taking notes as he listed off some of the other nauseating possibilities. "They might also just be trafficking them, selling them to others to use in whatever way they want."

"This is where our two investigations intersect," Gale noted. "It's a crucial piece to discover who and how many were involved in the on-going Avox abuse that I'm looking into."

"And it's a big part of where did the escaped thugs go and why. And that leads to all sorts of internal security issues, very likely in multiple districts."

"So, going forward," Gale liked how to the point Paylor always was. She was always quick to get to what exactly needed to be done. "Hawthorne, you head back to District 2, get the Avoxes set up in a secure location and base the investigation into their treatment from there, with as many trips here or elsewhere as you need."

"What about the arrest?"

"There's a little time this afternoon. See if you can find something we can use before you go. Then Houdan can handle the actual arrest. And we'll make sure to send them straight to the prison in District 1. Rood," at least she'd dropped the "Mister," "you'll need to be based here in 14. I want names for an investigative team you trust. And I'll be staying here for a few days. I'll handle the press, try to deal with the distractions so you can get to work."

Monzo nodded. "I need to know anyone based here in 14 that you're sure you can trust. Both to work with them and to get what information I can from them." Paylor nodded at him.

"Alright, gentlemen, we've got a lot to do. Time to get going." She picked up the phone on her desk and they knew they were dismissed.

As they headed down the hall, Gale turned to Monzo. "I need a favor."

"Sure. I got nothing else going on," Monzo grinned.

"I'm going to find something on this Janus doctor. I want you to lead the team that arrests him."

"You don't trust Houdan?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that . . . you're the best. I want it done right."

"You got it in for this guy?"

"He's a scumbag. But smart. I'll get something to you as soon as possible, then you'll need to move fast."

They took separate elevators, Monzo going back down to B3, Gale up to eight. He needed to talk to Arach, find out if he'd convinced Madge yet. If not, . . . part of him wanted to just up her morphling dose, knock her out and deal with it once they were safely in Two.

No way. That felt too much like a Capitol technique. He'd have to think of something. Maybe Arach would have some idea.

Then he smiled. Arach would definitely know who'd been Avoxed most recently. That'd narrow his search of the medical files down to something he could do quickly. Yes! He'd be able to answer at least that question.

**AN – My contribution to Gadge Week. Since the Day 5 prompt was Leaving and this chapter is Moving I just couldn't resist throwing it in there. Loving all the Gadge Week submissions. BTW – my beta on this was Solaryllis, but she looked at it a LONG time ago and I've made some changes. So thanks to her for her help, but all errors, typos and/or weirdness is mine.**


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